


A Period of Consequences

by whittler_of_words



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Angst, Blood, Gen, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Pale Romance | Moirallegiance, Post-Sburb/Sgrub, Sadstuck, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-28
Updated: 2015-02-03
Packaged: 2018-03-09 09:29:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3244607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whittler_of_words/pseuds/whittler_of_words
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“They go on in strange paradox, decided only to be undecided, resolved to be irresolute, adamant for drift, solid for fluidity, all-powerful to be impotent”¦  Owing to past neglect, in the face of the plainest warnings, we have entered upon a period of danger.  The era of procrastination, of half measures, of soothing and baffling expedience of delays, is coming to its close.  In its place we are entering a period of consequences”¦.  We cannot avoid this period, we are in it now”¦”<br/>- Winston Churchill, November 12, 1936</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings for this story:
> 
>  **Heavily** implied off-screen character death, violence, and references to suicide. If any other warnings are required that I've missed, please tell me and I'll edit this note accordingly.
> 
> This is not a happy fic. You have been warned.
> 
> ( 8

It’s laughing that Karkat walks to his death, because the only thing he can think of is this: after surviving as a mutant on Alternia, and fighting tooth and nail to survive the horror that disguised itself as a game twice called Sgrub, twice called Sburb, beating unbeatable bosses that seemed to appear at every turn and being almost-killed within centimeters of his life and crawling his way back every time, and finally, _finally_ winning, standing bruised but tall in the midst of the new universe that they had all created with every face there again, after shoving both fully cocked middle fingers in a _fuck you_ at the universe and the universe saying _well suck on this_ back, finding himself with a new life and a new world and no clue what to do with it but _who fucking cares, at least he’s alive, at least everyone is alive--_

he’s going to die because in the end he wasn’t broken _enough._

“Karkat Vantas, you have been found guilty of the first-degree murders of John Egbert, Jane Crocker, Rose and Roxy Lalonde, Dave and Dirk Strider, Jade Harley, Jake English, Aradia Megido, Tavros Nitram, Sollux Captor, Nepeta Leijon, Kanaya Maryam, Terezi Pyrope, Vriska Serket, Equius Zahhak, Gamzee Makara, and Eridan Ampora, and have been found responsible for the missing case of Feferi Peixes.” 

There are only five other people in the room. The guard holding tight to Karkat’s already shackled elbow, the man reading off the accusations with a large, broad gleaming sword in his hands, and three others sitting at a table at the far end, watching with dark, accusing eyes. 

Karkat says five, because the other person doesn’t really count _as_ a person in his mind.

“These murders have been stated on the record as the most violent, brutal, and sadistic crimes committed for almost fifty years. As such, only execution has been decided as a fit punishment.” The man spits the words out with a vengeance, and he makes it unmistakably clear by his tone that he would have chosen a much more painful mode of recompense. “You have the _right_ ,” he spits, “to have a last statement recorded. Would you like to take that offer?”

shit, man

Karkat keeps staring ahead, ignoring the teenager leaning against the wall to his right. 

no getting out of this one huh

“Yes,” Karkat says.

especially since you actually did what theyre accusing you of but whatevs

“Very well.” The man says it like the words make him sick. “You may speak.”

oh well

“They kept forgetting,” Karkat says. “They didn’t see it. They couldn’t _see_. It was never real, it was all a fucking dream, and of course those pan-rotted dunderfucks didn’t realize it.”

so

“I just wanted it to be over.”

guess this is it

Hands push him roughly to his knees. The man who’s going to kill him doesn’t quite smile. 

its been fun while it lasted

Karkat wonders for the first time if maybe he’s actually insane.

see you around

The blade as it swings down feels like absolution.

==> Be past Karkat.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Karkat opens his eyes.
> 
> It’s a Sunday. Karkat likes Sundays.

Karkat Vantas is sleeping.

==> Karkat: Wake Up.

Karkat opens his eyes.

It’s a Sunday. Karkat likes Sundays.

Karkat gets to see everyone on Sunday. Sunday is when they all set aside a few hours to get together and catch up, to be friends and take refuge in this strange new universe that sends Karkat reeling at even the smallest differences that he hasn’t quite gotten used to yet. They laugh. The watch shitty movies. They talk about how boring their new lives are and how amazing that is. 

Karkat bakes on Sundays. Egbert is constantly assigning him that job and it’s hard to refuse when everyone insists that he continues to take up the mantle.

“Heeey, Karkalicious is in da house!” 

“Actually Roxy, I’m not, because you are currently blocking my way in, so if you don’t mind.”

Roxy grins. She bars the open doorway with a sideways jut of a hip, and tuts.

“Nuh-uh, Karlkins. You know the drill. Gimme gimme.” Karkat rolls his eyes before producing the wrapped confection, warmth radiating through the aluminum foil, and Roxy snatches it away with unabashed glee. “ _Hella._ ” She disappears, leaving the door wide open, and Karkat closes it behind him as he steps through the threshold of the large house.

“Hello, Karkat! Glad you could finally join us!” Jake gives him a cheery wave and a smile from where he sits on the couch. “You wouldn’t happen to have brought the, uh...”

Karkat jerks a thumb to the back of the house. “Roxy went off with it somewhere.” 

“Oh _hell_ no.” Karkat jumps when Dave appears out of nowhere, even though he knows he should be used to it by now. Flashsteps are _not_ his forte. “She fucking cheated! I swear that this time that pie is mine.”

Karkat snorts as Dave flashsteps away. He sits on the couch as Roxy runs out of the back hall screaming bloody murder, still unopened package held up high in her hands as she sprints away from a pursuing Dave. 

“Aren’t you going to join in on the ridiculousness?” Karkat nods a head back at where Roxy and Dave are running in circles. Jake laughs.

“No, I suppose not. I shall just have to try my luck next time, eh?” 

“Whatever.” Karkat shrugs, and then looks around at the mostly empty house. “Where the fuck is everybody?”

“Everyone got here quite a while ago, pal! But John needed to go out to get a few things and most everyone decided to tag along. I’m sure they’ll return in a jiffy.” 

“Mm.”

Karkat settles into the couch and watches as Dave attempts to change tactics, flashstepping in a seemingly random flurry around Roxy. An occasional blur of a hand is seen reaching up for the tin, but Roxy knocks it away with a lightning-strike of a fist every time. Karkat’s attention is drawn away as Jake sighs a long, contented sigh. A warm smile is on his face as he watches the two, his eyes soft.

“Those two are as thick as thieves,” Jake says. “Been like that since they were young. Some things never change.”

Karkat frowns at him. He was already frowning, but it at least deepens where it sits on his face somewhat. “That’s nice. Except for the part where I’m not included in your weird memory overlay bullshit.”

“What’s that, old chum?” Jake sounds distracted, his attention only half on Karkat as Dave finally manages to steal the tin from Roxy’s grip. Karkat raises a disbelieving eyebrow.

“The weird memory overlay bullshit? You know, the thing where everyone seems to have memories of alternate lives here except me, for some incredibly stupid reason? Which has made everything a fucking great inconvenience on my end. So if you’d stop saying things that don’t make sense, please.”

“Oh.” Jake blinks. “Oh- oh yes! My sincerest apologies, I’ll be sure to keep it in mind from now on.” Jake laughs. Dave has opened the tin and makes a distressed shriek when he finds it to be stuffed with socks, and Roxy produces the actual pie from seemingly (see: _actually_ ) out of thin air. That odd smile is back on Jake’s face.

This is the day when everything starts to go horribly, horribly wrong.

==> Karkat: Watch as everything goes wrong.

Jake doesn’t show up one Sunday.

Karkat tries to impress on everyone on how fucking ridiculously worrying that fact is, and they’re all staring at him like he’s insane.

“It’s a _Sunday_ ,” Karkat says. “What can be so important that he had to skip out? No one’s ever missed one of these things!”

“It was going to happen sooner or later,” Sollux shrugs. Aradia is weaving flowers into his hair and Feferi is weaving flowers into Aradia’s, Nepeta humming quietly as she threads flowers through Feferi’s braids. “I’m surprised we’ve managed to keep it up for this long.”

“I’m in it for the free food,” Dirk says, arm folded over the back of the couch. Roxy pouts at him.

“Awww, Dirky, I thought you came here because of me!”

“Our entire relationship has been built on lies.” Roxy faints dramatically into Dirk’s lap as he continues in a deadpan. “I’m sorry honey, but we’re just not working out. I’ve found someone better.”

“No, no don’t say it’s so, my love!”

“I’m sorry. But Mr. Chili Dog loves me more than you ever have.”

Roxy gasps. “I’m--”

“Oh my _god_ , will you stop with your fucking roleplay of irony for long enough to actually take what I have to say into consideration, you fucking assholes?! This is serious! There is not a single thing I can think of that would cause Jake to miss this--” Karkat gestures frantically around the room, “--this _thing_ we have going on here! What if something happened to him!” 

It’s the look they’re all giving him that’s the worst part. He could handle their disbelief. He could put up with their snark, they’re his _friends_. It’s the uneasy, embarrassed glances they exchange, the _Karkat’s at it again_ written into the pull of their mouths. They think he’s crazy and they’re resigned to it.

“I’m...talking to him right now, actually.” Tavros shows Karkat the screen of his phone and dark lines of green stand out against the light. Another message pings into existence as Karkat watches, bewildered. “He says he...didn’t feel like it? Coming today, I mean.”

“But--”

“Geeze, man, it’s not that big of a deal. Just chill already.” With these words of wisdom, Dave turns his attention back to the screen of the TV.

“But.” Karkat’s voice is small. “It’s a Sunday.”

They’ve all already stopped listening.

==> Karkat: Do something.

One by one, the Sunday meetings grow smaller and smaller and farther apart.

Karkat remembers what it feels like to be alone.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Karkat stares at the orange asymmetrical bird-kid sprite-thing floating at the foot of his bed and decides to ask the most important question first.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Consumption of alcohol in this chapter, for those who are sensitive to that.

==> Be Karkat.

Karkat Vantas is sleeping.

==> Karkat: Wake up.

Karkat opens his eyes.

“Oh,” Karkat says, and “ _you_.”

yes, it is i

Karkat stares at the orange asymmetrical bird-kid sprite-thing floating at the foot of his bed and decides to ask the most important question first.

“How are you doing that?”

what

“ _That_. The talky thingy. It’s fucking annoying, stop it.”

oh yes just let me cut off my one and only means of communication, as long as it doesnt give the delicate little flower a headache

Light filters through the curtained windows. Karkat notes with a strange relief that today is not Sunday.

the Game isnt over yet

“God _damn_ it--”

sorry man just sayin it like it is

“Why me,” Karkat says to his ceiling. “Why. What did I do to deserve this. Go bother John or something, douchebag.” His ceiling says nothing, but Davesprite obliges to answer for it instead.

i cant, asshole, why do you think im here

and i could actually answer that question for you if you want, its not like im a sprite with ample knowledge of the Game and how it works or anything

“Go ahead. Just make my fucking day.”

nah

Karkat stares at Davesprite. The shades sit oddly on his face, somehow. “And why the fuck not?”

because youre not going to believe me

i could explain all of it to you in extreme detail and you would just brush me off

it sucks but thats the way it is

“Try me.”

Davesprite shrugs. alright man you asked for it

turns out

this whole universe

is a dream

“Bull _shit_.”

see what did i tell you

“This can’t be a dream. It fucking-- dreams don’t hurt!” Karkat bangs the back of his head against the banister of his bed. “ _Fuck!_ See? So you can shove your dream-talk up your waste chute.”

come on vantas

you took part in a game that ripped apart universes and gave you the powers of a god

do you really think itd be that difficult to make you feel a little pain

Karkat tries to ignore the bubble of unease beginning to rise up in his gut. “Prove it, then.” Davesprite tilts his head to the side. It’s a weirdly bird-like gesture.

theyve already started to forget things

havent they

“No,” Karkat lies. Earlier that week it had taken Karkat twenty minutes to get John to remember who Casey was. The last time Feferi had talked about her lusus she’s said Octomom instead of Gl’bgolyb. Whenever he brings up what they went through they laugh and then change the subject.

well then they will soon enough kid

it should really be starting any day now

how long have you been here now?

“Two years.”

days months years whatever its all the same to me

either way

i know this to be a thing that is true

It’s hot under the covers, suffocatingly so. Karkat kicks them off. Davesprite wrinkles his nose.

wow dude i didnt need to know you sleep in the nude

Karkat blinks. When he looks down he finds himself in the usual sweats he wears to bed.

haha made you look

When Karkat looks up, Davesprite is already gone.

Karkat prepares to go about his day and pretends that everything inside of him isn’t screaming.

==> Karkat: Accept what you know to be true.

Davesprite doesn’t come back until years later. 

When he does, he finds Karkat sitting at the table of his nutrition block, three empty amber bottles sitting in a triangle and a fourth gripped in his hands. When orange flashes in the corner of Karkat’s vision, he takes a sip.

“I tried to talk about you last month,” Karkat says.

how did that go

“Rose wants me in therapy. Everybody else agrees.”

Karkat takes another drink from the bottle. It tastes singularly of bitter alcohol and it doesn’t make him feel better in the slightest, but at least it gives him something to do with his hands.

“Call it a game all you want,” Karkat mutters. “I refuse to believe that it doesn’t hate us.”

nah dude

this is its way of being kind

Karkat tries to figure out from Davesprite’s face whether he’s joking or not. His glasses are off for once. There’s no laughter in his expression.

“Kind.”

you guys tried breaking the Game to get what you want

hell, it mightve even worked

but man talk about overkill, theres such a thing as going too _far_

you won but the data was too corrupted and whats the fun in a glitchy Reward

so it gave you the next best thing

a little dream universe to call your own

“Fantastic.” Karkat’s bottle is almost empty. Oh well. It wasn’t really working, anyway. “And somehow that included everyone forgetting about it?”

imagine it like a save file being overwritten 

“Fuck.” Karkat grinds the palms of his hands into his eyes. “Fucking fuck, _fuck_.”

couldnt have said it better myself

“You shut the hell up. Jesus christ.” Karkat takes a moment to breathe. To get his bearings and come to terms with the fact that everything he’s done in the past five years has been a lie. Davesprite thankfully stays silent. “How is it that I’m the only one who’s spared from this bullshit?”

the fact that Aspects are still a thing mostly

Blood is fucking weird dude

paired up with your Class its not gonna let you forget

therefore youre the only asshole left who might be able to fix this shit

“Okay. This is all a fucking dream, I get it, as pan-shittingly stupid as it sounds.” Karkat squints at Davesprite. “But what is there to even fix? We won, right? Why can’t the Game just fucking leave us all alone?”

Davesprite fiddles with the tattered edges of the messily-wrapped bandages around his middle for a moment, not meeting Karkat’s eyes. When he looks up, Karkat wonders if he’s imagining the dark smudges of orange under his eyes.

because without active Players the Game is falling apart

if someone doesnt do something soon

all of us are going to die

It’s surprisingly easy for Karkat to believe. He’d been happy so far. Of course it wasn’t going to last.

None of that stops his hands from shaking.

“Shit. Shit, shit, _shit_.” He runs his fingers through his hair. “ _Fuck_.” Davesprite says nothing as Karkat rides out the beginnings of a panic attack. He can’t get enough air. He feels like he’s going to throw up. It takes a while, but when he can finally breathe right again, Karkat tents his fingers up by his nose and stares at the floor.

sorry

There’s the rustling of a large wing.

this whole thing sucks major balls, kid

“I’m not ‘kid’.” Karkat tries for a glare. It’s an expression that gives him comfort more than anything. “You’re the six-sweep-old in the room.”

im a sprite and sprites dont age

time is weird in dreams you know

so i can call you kid if i damn well please because oh look

all of you are kids to the one with the body of a pre pubescent teenage boy

ironic isnt it

Karkat laughs. It’s either that, or cry, at this point.

“What could I even do? I’d probably manage to fuck it up somehow, I don’t exactly have the best track record.”

Davesprite tells him what he can do.

Karkat punches him in the face.

“ _No_ ,” he growls. Davesprite rubs at his jaw.

ow

wow you punch hard

“How could you-- _of all-- No!_ ”

look theyre my friends too you utter dick

three of them at least and i guess alpha me counts if you squint

“I swore to myself that there was one thing I would never fucking do and you’re asking me to do it, you-- you would ask me to do-- I could never--”

im _sorry_

but its the only way to wake them up

you either do it and everyone lives or you dont do it and everyone dies, for real this time

which one would you rather choose you shitty excuse for a Knight

Karkat throws the first bottle he can reach at the wall and stands heaving in the middle of the room.

He’s not entirely sure when he started to cry.

Davesprite only hesitates for a moment before clasping a hand on to Karkat’s shoulder. He seems like he’s going to say something a couple times, and Karkat thinks that if he tries to apologize one more time he’s going to smash the next bottle into his face.

Davesprite stays silent. Karkat breathes.

“I never really had a choice,” he says bitterly, “did I?”

==> Karkat: Do what you swore you would never do.

no

you didnt


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Karkat opens the door of his hive to be greeted by--
> 
> a legislacerator.

==> Be Karkat.

Karkat Vantas is sleeping.

==> Karkat: Wake up.

Karkat opens his eyes.

He wishes he could call them nightmares. He wishes he could say they scare him, that the dreams plague him with guilt and make him sick in the morning.

He blinks awake every day with images of his hands painted different shades of blood stained into the back of his eyelids, and all he can feel is numb. Numb down to his bones. Emotions swirl in a hurricane down to the core of him but they’re distant, so far away that they can’t touch him.

What remains of his friends hardly even notice.

He supposes that if he’s grateful for one thing, it’s that the him that ‘lived’ on this planet was enough of a reclusive asshole that going weeks without contacting anyone was the norm. He doubts he could manage it, manage looking any of them in the eye when he knows he’s inevitably going to kill them all.

wakey wakey eggs and bakey

Davesprite is as much a comfort as he is a nuisance.

come on asshole get up

its time to rise and shine

youre not going to feel any better by condemning yourself to darkness and messy rooms forevermore yknow

“I know,” Karkat growls, and he pulls the covers tighter over himself. There’s the slight pressure of someone sitting on the bed.

theyll hang out in whats left of the normal dreambubbles Davesprite says, and Karkat doesn’t need to ask to know who he’s talking about. theyll be fine. theyre fine

“I _know._ ”

cmon dude you havent eaten in two and a half days

“What, are you counting?”

yes actually

“Creep.”

the creepiest now get the fuck up

Davesprite refuses to stop making lewd commentary throughout the entire shopping trip. Karkat finds it oddly comforting on a level he would rather ignore completely.

==> Karkat: Ask the big questions.

“What the fuck have you even been doing all this time?” 

Davesprite shrugs, scratching at the back of his head. He’s been wearing his shades less and less. Karkat hasn’t asked why. 

fucking around mostly

the planets are still mostly intact but what with all of the consorts gone theres not much to do there

lets just say i prefer staying here

Karkat raises an eyebrow. “How long has it been from your perspective again?”

all in all? Davesprite shrugs again. a couple decades

Karkat nearly chokes on his own spit. “A couple _decades?_ All on your own?!”

yeah thats what i said isnt it

“That’s fucked up,” Karkat says. “This is fucked up. Everything about this entire shit-fiesta of a situation is fucked up.”

preaching to the choir here man

“Did you...” Karkat hesitates a moment, before pushing on. “Were you lonely?”

Davesprite says nothing. They stare at each other, neither of them blinking, and Karkat is intimately aware of every breath he takes. Davesprite looks away first

yeah he says, and looks back at Karkat again. i was

“Oh.”

yeah

Karkat fiddles with his hands for a moment before saying, “Sorry.”

for what i mean its not like its your fault

“Yes, it fucking is.” Karkat looks up to glare at Davesprite, who blinks in surprise. “If it wasn’t for us and what we did to the session, none of us would be in this situation. So you can thank me and my fantastic leadership for all of this.”

dude, karkat, no

“Dude, Davesprite, _yes_.”

hey fuck you

im not gonna let you blame yourself for this asshole its not happening

choo choo sorry folks but the self pity train isnt stopping here today better luck never

none of you knew this is what would be waiting for you on the other side of that door okay

“this is not my fault” look at how catchy that is say it with me karkat

“No.”

this

“I said no.”

is

“Stop.”

not

“Oh my god.”

my

“Are you fucking serious.”

fault

“I’m still not saying it.”

thats alright man i already know it to be true in my heart so no worries

“God damn it.” Karkat rubs a hand over his eyes with an exasperated groan. Through the gaps his fingers, he can see Davesprite smiling a little. Karkat tries to ignore the way he feels a little lighter, somehow.

Stupid.

==> Karkat: Receive a visitor. 

Karkat opens the door of his hive to be greeted by--

a legislacerator.

He knows it’s the wrong word. She’s human, not a troll, and humans have the strangest words for things, but Karkat’s too busy struggling with the urge to slam the door in the woman’s face to put any effort into remembering it.

“I’m looking for Karkat Vantas,” the woman says.

Karkat clears his throat, trying to clear away the sudden dryness there. “Speaking.”

“I’m one of the officers in charge of the investigation of the cases of your missing friends. Would you mind if I asked you some questions?”

“Questions.”

She smiles at him solemnly -- close-lipped. She must work with trolls often. “Just trying to gather as much information on the victim’s lives prior to the incidents as possible, sir. It can help us find them.”

_Victims._ The word strikes Karkat like a blow. He’s stepped aside and let the woman into his home before he’s fully conscious of what he’s doing.

He sits her down at the table by the nutrition block. She refuses a drink. Karkat ignores the orange in the corner of his vision as he sits across from her.

“How well do you know Dirk Strider?” she asks, and Karkat sucks in a breath.

He gets more nauseated with every question she asks, every time he has to talk about when he last saw Equius (“It was during one of our get-togethers.” _He was in his workshop alone like he is every other night when Nepeta is out at work._ ) or how Jade was acting around the time she disappeared (“Cheerful and happy as always, I guess.” _I can still see the betrayal in her eyes when I close mine_.)

He gets the feeling that she doesn’t ask as many questions as she first planned. Either she thinks he doesn’t know anything important, or she decides to take mercy on him for the time being. He feels like it’s so obvious, his guilt betrayed by the flatness of his tone, his steady hands- how could she not see it? Maybe it’s this world that’s the problem. Disgustingly progressive, horribly peaceful, murder more of a terrifying cautionary tale than a tired reality. Even with how hard he’s tried to get the job done as quickly and cleanly as possible, the murders have been widely agreed to be the most violent case in decades. Whatever the case, after an hour of this, she hands him her card, and she leaves.

you okay

Karkat stares at the card in his hands. “Yeah,” he says distantly, “yeah,” and then he spends the next half hour vomiting into the sink.

He can feel Davesprite hovering behind him a he rinses out his mouth, and when he stretches a hand over the counter searching for a towel, he doesn’t question it when his fingers find cloth where there hadn’t been any before. Karkat presses the towel to his face and breathes. 

When a hand touches his shoulder, he jerks away.

“Don’t _touch_ me,” he snarls, pushing past Davesprite before he can register the expression that flashes across his face. Karkat is still holding onto the card, crumpled up in his hand and soggy in some places, and pieces of it trail behind him as he viciously rips it apart on the way to his block. He slams the door behind him.

Karkat sits on his bed.

He doesn’t move.

It could be two minutes, it could be two hours, he doesn’t know, but at some point Karkat is vaguely aware of Davesprite coming in and sitting next to him. Karkat doesn’t do anything. He just continues staring at nothing, because it’s easier, and he’s so tired of feeling so fucking much. 

It’s as if moving through water that Karkat looks up when Davesprite takes his hand. 

Davesprite says nothing, his lips thinned in...something, that Karkat is too exhausted to bother trying to name. He distracts himself for a moment with the orange freckles dusted over Davesprite’s cheeks before he finally meets his eyes.

==> Karkat: Break.

It’s a little late for that.

Isn’t it?

Davesprite holds him as he sobs, and neither of them move for a long, long time.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It can’t last.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning for some passing thoughts of suicide in this chapter.

==> Be Karkat.

Karkat Vantas is sleeping.

==> Karkat: Wake up.

Karkat opens his eyes.

He doesn’t move immediately. He’s tired still, as if he never went to sleep in the first place. He’s always tired. It’s the same thing every morning: wake up, stay in bed for as long as possible. Do what needs to be done. Wash, rinse, repeat. 

He looks to his left and thinks, maybe not exactly the same thing every morning, now.

Davesprite is there, still sleeping. Karkat has learned that wings make a fucking huge inconvenience for sleeping on beds but he’s also learned that when one is folded up just so, so that it lays over him as he’s tucked against a particular orange chest, it makes everything feel safe and warm and tired in a better way. He’s learned that Davesprite makes odd noises when he’s trying to be comforting; bird-like chirrs and chirps, mixed in with the quiet reassurances, that Karkat doubts are entirely voluntary. He’s learned that soft fingers gently wiping the tears from his cheeks make for mercilessly soothing gestures as one falls asleep.

Karkat’s learned...

“You’re an idiot,” Karkat whispers, mostly to himself.

tell me something i dont know

welcome to idiot town population me

Davesprite’s eyes are still closed, but as Karkat watches, they blink slowly open. 

what did i do this time

Karkat snorts quietly at that, despite himself. “If you asked me what you didn’t do you would get a much shorter list.”

alright alright i see how it is

excuse me sir rants a lot let me just help you off your high horse there

“You’re excused. Mine is far superior to yours.”

Davesprite’s lips quirk up in a smile. im sure it is

The unexpected sincerity in that simple statement is enough to surprise Karkat into smiling back. After a moment, Karkat leans forward and presses his forehead against Davesprite’s chest, closing his eyes. An arm wraps around him. He almost falls back asleep.

The same old tired emotional disconnect is still there as Karkat drifts, apathy like fog in his brain, and he almost wishes he could give Davesprite the freakout he deserves as he idly rubs circles into Karkat’s back.

“Shit,” Karkat mutters after a moment. “We need to have the quadrant talk, don’t we.”

nah 

Game construct shit

i think i understand quads better than you at this point

“Impossible,” Karkat scoffs. It comes out muffled against Davesprite’s shirt. “Say that to my face, fucker.”

hey

Karkat looks up at the solemn expression on Davesprite’s face.

the stars can only ever dream of being as pale as i am for you

“Holy shit,” Karkat says. “You smooth motherfucker. How the hell am I supposed to top that.”

the answer is you dont

youre welcome

“Asshole.” Karkat says it fondly. “Pale for you, too.”

==> Karkat: Realize

it can’t last.

Despite what he’d like to believe, what he wants to be true, there is still work to be done. Gruesome and bloody. The body count racks up and Karkat almost wishes it wasn’t so damn easy.

His sleep is dreamless now.

Karkat sits on the floor of his friend’s hive and stares at the bloodstained blade in his hand. The only breathing in the room is his. It’s easy to believe that no one else exists this way. It’s terrifying.

“Who next,” he sighs, lifetimes later. He doesn’t want to have to think about his rapidly dwindling options. He doesn’t want to have to make the decision himself. When only silence greets his question, Karkat turns. Davesprite’s mouth is pulled into a grim line. His gaze is steady.

==> Karkat: Realize

it's over

theres no one left

Oh.

“Huh,” Karkat says, his tone contemplative but his mind blank. 

It’s over. 

A kind way to put it.

karkat

The troll takes a breathe. “Yeah.”

you know what happens next, right

“Yeah. All the players need to be back in the Medium for this to work. I know.” They both know what that means. Karkat looks back at his knife. He could end this right here, if he wanted.

His friends deserve more than that.

He pulls his phone out of his pocket and dials the legislacerator’s number from memory.

==> Karkat: Wait for the end.

Karkat thinks to ask the one question he’d completely forgotten about.

“What about me?” Davesprite blinks at him. “Will I wake up when I die?”

Davesprite hesitates, and that’s all the answer Karkat needs.

theres a chance that

you wont

if no one is here to keep the dream whole itll collapse in on itself and i dont count

so it depends on which goes first

you or the dream

"Oh."

He decides that he's okay with that.

Karkat waits for them with the blood still on his hands.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He pleads guilty, of course.

==> Be Karkat.

He pleads guilty, of course. 

Within days -- hours -- they have him scheduled for the execution block. This pleases him more than it should. Or, maybe that’s not the right word to use. It feels _right_. As if what he broke will finally be made whole again.

Soon.

==> Be Karkat.

Davesprite says nothing as the guards lead him away. Karkat isn’t sure whether he should be glad for it this time or not.

==> Be Karkat.

The concrete floor of the block is burning cold under his bare feet. 

His scraped knees. His bowed head.

A few seconds and he doesn’t feel the floor at all.

 

 

==> Be Karkat.

Karkat Vantas is sleeping.

==> Karkat: Wake up.

K

K

Karkat opens

Karkat opens his eyerror

 

 

error

**[[ERROR 408 REQUEST TIMEOUT]]**

**[[TRY AGAIN Y/N]]**

==> Y| 

Karkat opens his

 

Karkat

Karkat KarkatKarkat Karkat Kar error 

**[[ERROR 403 FORBIDDEN]]**

**[[REDIRECTING...]]**

**[[REDIRECTING...]]**

 

==> Be Davesprite.

Davesprite is sleeping.

==> Davesprite: Wake up.

It’s to the sound of coughing that he jolts awake. The stone slab of his Dreamer’s bed is cool under his skin as he sits up, his mouth tasting like cotton, his eyes dry. How long was he asleep for this time? He’s not sure. He doesn’t think he wants to know.

Wait.

Coughing--

Davesprite looks to his right to see Jade propped up on her elbows, squinting heavily. She’s not the only one, either; everyone is shifting in their own beds, moving for the first time in what feels like forever, each one varying levels of awake. 

Almost.

Almost everyone.

On the opposite end of the circle of beds, in the middle of a line of blearily rising trolls, one figure has yet to move an inch.

Davesprite nearly crashes into John’s bed on his left from the vertigo of jerking up so suddenly. He ignores the yelp of surprise, flying across the empty space over to Karkat’s bed. Please. Please, just one more time, let the Game be on his side just _one more time._

Davesprite realizes not even halfway there that the thought is useless.

There are no wounds on him; his skin is blank of everything except years-old scars, but blood still envelops him in thick, crimson pools. It seeps into his clothes, staining the black fabric of his sweater, staining his hair, his skin, the iron cloying smell of it hangs in the air and someone gags. There is a barely-there dripping sound. 

Karkat’s skin, when Davesprite closes the lids of his half-open eyes, is still warm.

Stupid. Stupid kid. When will Davesprite learn that there are no such things as happy endings?

“Oh-- oh god.” The voice is John’s. Davesprite doesn’t turn to look. The tremble in John’s voice is enough. “Davesprite? What happened? Is he--”

“Yeah.” Davesprite can’t look anymore. He swallows around the lump in his throat and floats back, turning to leave the bloody scene behind him. He doesn’t want to have to explain all this. He doesn’t want to have to spell it out for them, watch their reactions, hear what they have to say. He can’t. The shock and disbelief on John’s face is already too much. Davesprite brushes past him with a muttered apology on his lips.

He just needs to be alone for a little while.

It’s ironic, really.

After all this time, after everything, decades with nothing to do but dream,

all Davesprite wants to do is rest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and there it is. hope it was worth the read- thank you guys for the comments/kudos! :)
> 
> also, thank you to a kind anon for enlightening me. listen to [this song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BWu7JDETw_I) if you want to have some ~~more~~ emotions.


End file.
